This Is Where I Want To Be

44. Lots of Years ago

Marcus

It was a freaking hot day in the desert; I was already tired of the unbearable heat, and it wasn’t even summer yet. Wiping sweat off my brow, I walked around the market, taking a break from my father’s house. He had taken another wife that week, and the whole place was in chaos. The wedding was such an affair it would take everyone weeks to calm down.

Entering the bookstore was always soothing. No one knew of it unless you knew of it. Hidden in the back of a supermarket, you really needed to be interested in the outside world…The human world… to get books only that establishment carried. Online was an option, but it was monitored and stopped if you were caught. Well… for the men. If a woman was caught on a computer, they would pay in some way… There was usually a guy or two in the place—regulars. But that day, a girl was standing at the counter having a heated discussion with Soren, debating about some matter happening in the human world. She was animated, and when the teller saw me staring, he stopped talking to her. He shooed her away by lifting his chin. Soren asked me if he could help me. I shook my head, browsing for my next read.

The girl glared at me fleetingly and ran off to the back as if I just invaded her space, denied her some… I didn’t even know what. Seeing any woman in there was already a shock, let alone a little girl. When I chose my book, I went for my favorite spot. The couch in question was situated further into the little place around a corner, creating a reading nook with a coffee station to the side and a large wooden table in front of the couch. Rounding the corner, that same girl was lying down on that couch.

It was my couch!

I went over to her, “Do you mind moving? I need to relax, and those chairs,” she interrupted me, “Are horrible. Yeah, I know,” she frowned at the two culprits. All I could see were her squinting eyes anyway.

She checked her watch, “Look, I have an hour left, but you know the couch is big enough for both of us. I won’t eat you.”

It was weird that she was wearing a watch. It was even stranger that she was talking to me like that. I couldn’t see her face or her body; she was covered by a veil and a long-sleeved dress. She couldn’t care what my response would be. She sat up, pulled her feet underneath her, and kept reading.

I wasn’t going to sit down next to a woman… in a bookstore, in public. I wondered how she got away with it, let alone one with such a tone. I pushed my hand into her veil and grabbed her earlobe, pulling her to her feet while she protested. I pushed her through the back door and threw her out into the alleyway. I would have my couch, but I wouldn’t expose her for reading, either. Her little hand was covering her ear. I closed the door slowly; all I heard was, “Ignorant ass.”

I pushed the door open to scare her; she hiked up her skirts and ran for it. I laughed, and Soren laughed, too. I flinched at him, not liking being laughed at or drawing attention. He was young and quickly cast his eyes down, keeping himself busy with work.

I tried concentrating, but it was in vain. The next day loomed over me like a dark cloud. If it would only rain once in a while, we could get out of training. I was sick and tired of coaching an army that served no purpose. The number of vampires had grown exponentially with the harem system. Still, it had also turned the compound into a prison with increased laws, especially for women.

I stretched out on the couch as she had. She had been playing with some hair sticking out of her veil. I tried to remember what she was reading. “What book was she reading?” I asked Soren. He came around the corner a moment later, handing me the same book. I frowned, “This is a romance novel… Why would you have this?”

Apologetic, his shoulders shrugged, “She asked, and I got a few….” It seemed like he wanted to say more. “She is not the only woman who likes this stuff, so I have it here… they trade it out, and my pa doesn’t mind.” He wanted to take it from me, but I opened it rather curious.

The following day, early in the morning, I had to supervise drills, meetings, and strategic planning exercises. The trafficking of guns, ammunition, and equipment was an organization in itself. The compound had boomed in its enterprise of smuggling. The advantage for my father was many devout followers as they prepared for… I didn’t know what they thought they could do, but it kept me busy and out of the house.

After my work day, I made my way to the market again, heading for my favorite sweet shop. At the counter, ready to pay, stood a man and his daughter; the only thing that sprang to mind was—he seemed friendly. He had an easy smile and a little grey at the temples. There weren’t many of us older than two hundred years, and the signs were around the ears.

He was fiddling with his wallet while who I presumed was his daughter was debating with the teller. I recognized her voice; it was the same girl from yesterday. Staring at them, her father saw me and pulled the girl out of the way, “Someone wants to pay. Get out of there.”

He treated her like any other father would. I wondered if he knew what his daughter got up to. The teller knew who I was, but not everyone did, I was mainly at the barracks, and it wasn’t like I patrolled the streets or ended up in a gossip column. Joe asked if he could help me. She turned around to see who had interrupted her conversation and made everyone so nervous. She gasped when she saw me. Her little hand jutted out to cover her ear. I smiled. As soon as I did, I realized I had. It caught me by surprise. I actually remembered laughing the previous day. She stood back against her father, away from me… I didn’t like it—she seemed scared of me. He put his hand on her shoulders and squeezed them, reassuring her. “Please, you can pay first,” I suggested.

“Oh no, please go ahead. It will take her forever to decide.”

Her blue eyes were so icy I had to stare for a moment. I reached into one of the trays and held it out to her, “My favorite, maybe you’ll like it.”

“You’re very hot and cold.”

I smiled again… what the hell was wrong with me, “Like… Jack? In...” Her eyes grew like saucers, hushing me with her hands. I had read her romance novel. If you could call it that. I lifted an eyebrow. So, her father didn’t know what she was reading. I laughed, pushing the sweet at her.

She took it, lifted her veil, plopping it into her mouth, “Hmm, not bad. Never wanted to take the chance on something that looked like that… but tasty.”

My eye caught her father’s, and the words spilled from my lips before I knew it, “Will you permit me to buy her a bag?”

Small creases formed between his brows, and he quickly made eye contact with the teller. Joe nodded his approval. Liam stretched out his hand, and I took it. We introduced ourselves… but conveniently left out surnames. Then he did the oddest thing; Liam bent down to her ear, “Can he buy it for you?” It had been a long time since I saw a father ask a daughter anything, let alone for permission.

For a moment, her eyes were so narrow I didn’t think she could see anything. She shrugged, “I will take it as compensation for… trauma.” I laughed out loud—it sounded strange even to my ears. Liam was struck by the noise, scrutinizing me. “It wasn’t that funny,” she said flippantly. I laughed even louder, not caring who saw me.

She took the packet from the teller, “Thank you, Joe!”

“I’m the one who must say thank you. You’re my greatest patron… Well, next to Marcus.”

They left with her stuffing another one of the sweets into her veil.

Joe was watching me… watch her. He sighed, “She will have a hard time in here. Maybe not a good idea to draw attention to her,” he said, eyes cast down, packing me my usual.

I sighed too… He was referring to my father… It was the way things were.

The following Sunday, I came around the corner with a newspaper under my arm, moving toward the coffee station to make myself a cup. She was on my couch. When she saw me, she sat up… stood up, threw the book on the table, and left out the back door, slamming it.

Bewildered, my eyes darted from the door to Soren behind the counter. He was leaning over, taking in the scene. He pulled his lips in a downward frown, “What did you do?”

“Me?” I said, taken aback and irritated. He cowered at my tone, backed down, and continued his work.

The door swung back open. Both our heads turned in the direction. “I have been coming Sundays for… ever. And now you are here on Sundays. Should I change my slot so I can read in peace?”

Stupefied, I retorted, “My shifts at the base had changed. Sundays are the only day I can get away.”

Her fists were little balls at her side, “Argh,” she grunted. “Get me a new slot, Soren.”

He smiled and nodded, “I’ll talk to Liam!”

I picked up my coffee as the door closed—she was gone.

On the table was a book about traveling Europe.

The door flung open again. Thinking it was her… I was going to give her a piece of my mind. Instead, Liam pushed through the store. He had her picked up in front of him after she was moving too slowly, half dragging her to the counter while she protested, climbing underneath, muttering incoherently. Liam picked up a book. “Shhh!” Soren stepped towards the back to stand in front of her—guarding her. Two grown men protecting a reading girl.

Something told me soldiers were going to burst through the door. They pushed it open; it came to a crashing halt against the wall. Arrogantly, they peered into the room until they saw me. As I turned to face them, I spilled some coffee on my hand.

“General!” The two men jumped up and saluted.

I flung my fingers to the floor, cursing, trying to rid myself of the coffee I messed, “What the hell are you doing?”

“We saw a young woman entering this door, and we knew it was a reading room. We wouldn’t mind anyone else being here….” They were fumbling. Their eyes darted to Liam.

Yeah, like reading was illegal. It was discouraged, but not for a girl, and her father would get into a heap of trouble, “How do you know she didn’t just cut through to the supermarket. How would you recognize her anyway? Everyone looks exactly the same?”

The one wanted to defend their actions, but the other halted him, “You are right, General. It was stupid of us; sorry for disturbing you,” they saluted.

“Dismissed… And if you have nothing better to do than chase little girls, I will… No! You know what, who is your Sergeant?”

Their shoulders slumped, and they gave the name.

“Good luck for tomorrow. Now get lost!” I yelled, irritated. They quickly exited the door. I put my coffee and my paper down on the table, grabbing a napkin, I wiped my hand. There was silence behind me. When I turned, there were three pairs of eyes on me.

“You are General Marcus Ahmed!” the girl asked. I was stunned she knew anything about politics, let alone who the army’s General was.

“How would a girl like you know who I am?”

She looked around the room and pointed at the shelves, “I’m literally in a bookstore, reading. But let’s get back to you. Your father is Qadir Ahmed? That’s bad luck.”

“Shut up, Juliet,” her father spat. Her head jerked to him. She was shocked at the way he was speaking to her. Liam pulled her out from behind the counter.

“It was nothing!” I tried to say, but they left swiftly. I sighed; that was the general reaction to the surname.

Soren didn’t even look at me again.

The following Sunday, the girl wasn’t there. After sitting a while, I got up. I started to feel… a little bad about ruining her reading time.

“What is her new time slot?”

Soren seemed surprised. Even a little bit of concern was written on his face, “She didn’t get one. Liam said no more reading outside of the house. Which basically means no reading.”

I felt even worse, “Do you have a surname?”

He didn’t want to say and tried to dodge my questions as I probed. He eventually caved, “Farrow.”

“That was Liam Farrow!” Well, well. I wasn’t the only famous one. I didn’t know he had a daughter. I didn’t think anyone knew he did. She would go exceptionally well at an auction—solely for her surname. But I got the sense that was why Liam was hiding her. Joe warning me.

When I got home and got called into the study, my father lectured me again about most of my life… I made the mistake of asking him about Liam. There was such an animosity there that he nearly forbade me to ever speak to the guy. He was a radicle and stood against everything my father had built in the last hundreds of years.

So… I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like the regime.

A few months later, I walked into a bar and saw Liam at a table with a woman. He didn’t see me, so I made my way to a booth behind them. The woman was hiding in a corner, and they were somewhat in the back of the place; it seemed like Liam knew where he could go and where not. Their conversation was about their daughter, books, and sharing stories. A talking woman was already strange—but with her husband, in public? And him treating her with respect—was unheard of. No wonder my father hated him; they were total opposites.

When they got up to leave, he walked past me, slapped my shoulder, and greeted me, “Marcus.”

I nodded, feeling like a fool. What was I hoping to get out of spying anyway? “Hey, Liam!” I called before they left, afraid I would never see them again. “Why don’t you guys join me for another round… on me.” He looked at the woman, again asking for an opinion. Who was this guy? She agreed quickly, and they sat down. I extended my hand to Cindy, falling in with the easy manner, hoping she would take it—she did. I even got a smile. It was only faint crinkles around the eyes. We ordered another round and another. We had such a good time we ended up a little drunk. Kubra came to help us to the car, and we gave them a lift home.

That Sunday, the girl was back in the bookstore propped up on one of the offending chairs, so engrossed in her novel she didn’t even see me come in. She sat quietly reading, laughed, and commented about what some idiot did in her book. An hour later, Liam opened the back door. My eyes met his, and we greeted each other. “Thank you. I will look after her every Sunday… making friends isn’t easy.”

He smiled. They greeted Soren, and the girl made a point of avoiding me.

“Bye, Juliet. I will get those “books” for you.” He air-quoted the word. She laughed. Those icy blue eyes were full of mischief. She waved at Soren.

Her name was Juliet.

During the following week, I bought a couch and placed it opposite the one already there. I made sure I was there the whole Sunday; I didn’t want to miss seeing her reaction. Juliet came in and greeted Soren. They immediately began talking about some book they had both read that week. The discussion went on for quite a while. I got frustrated waiting. Them having so much to talk about. Being friends. He gave her four books. I had been peeking over my shoulder at them through the glass. She came over and sat on the new couch, laying down all the books on the table. Juliet scrutinized everyone for a few minutes until she decided on one, sat back in the corner of the couch, pulled up her legs, and opened the book.

I ventured a glance at Soren. He was laughing at me. That time, I let him laugh—I was being stupid.

When the door opened, it was Liam. He had come to pick her up. I stood and walked over to greet him. He looked at the offending couch and then at me. Clenching my teeth, I pulled up my shoulders, whispering, “She hasn’t said anything.”

He smiled, shaking his head at his daughter. He patted me on the shoulder, acknowledging for her, “Juliet, time. Come on, let’s go.”

She got up, and I went to sit down again.

Before she stepped down into the alleyway, she turned. I peeked over my book at her. She slowly came over, sat beside me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and hugged me. Liam wanted to intervene, but my arm stretched out so quickly, halting him.

“Thank You,” she whispered.

I sat frozen with my book in my hand. I didn’t want to move. She let go of me and waved at Soren again, “Bye, remember that other book I asked for.”

Nonchalantly, she opened the door, stepped down into the alley, and was gone. We all stared after her. “What just happened?” I asked.

“Sorry, Marcus… She’s a very affectionate girl,” Liam whispered. “Half the time, she just does what feels right.”

I was so taken aback by any display of tenderness or warmth that her actions stabbed into my core. The smile on my face would have powered a small city. Soren came over and gave me a high five, “Very cool. That was smooth.”

The father liked me, the mother liked me, and the daughter… liked the couch.

But I trusted that I had at least three friends in there.

Hundreds of Days Later

Juliet was jumping on the trampoline in the backyard, “You’re getting good at that.”

“Look at my flips. I think I could do a double,” she had on long, loose pants and an oversized shirt covering everything it had to—tucked in. Juliet’s veil was pushed into the shirt. As she jumped, the material went up and down with her hands—just a normal kid enjoying a simple pastime.

“Hi, Marcus.”

“Liam.”

“Juliet, you have to start doing your online lessons. Schooling will not be easy if you keep jumping your time away.”

“If I could go to a normal school. No one would have to remind me.”

“No!” Liam and I said at the same time.

Juliet abruptly stopped jumping, “And I’m way ahead anyway. I’m bored.” Exasperated at us and in a huff, she opened the slit in the nets and jumped to the ground. She wasn’t little Juliet anymore. Her whole personality had changed. The more she studied and gained knowledge, the more restless she became. Liam didn’t believe in the compound rules and was secretly educating her. Soren wasn’t helping; he challenged her at every turn, and after a while, I did the same. I had nothing against it. Juliet was intelligent and curious; leaving her to her own devices would have caused more trouble. She needed something to obsess about.

She walked right past me, “Hey!” I said softly, grabbing her hand.

She stopped, not looking at me, “If you would support me in going to a normal school, my parents would maybe consider it.” She cocked her head, imploring me with her eyes. Beautiful icy blue eyes. That was all I had of her. Eyes and sometimes lines to see what she was feeling.

“Your parents are not the problem… They are protecting you from the rules of the compound. You know there is no school for girls here, and the outside school is too far. How would your father sneak you out every day? Can’t you just be happy with your situation here?”

She grunted, “Like you?”

“You sound like a pig when you do that.”

She yanked her hand out of mine when I didn’t retort to her jab at my complacency. “Can’t we just leave, dad?”

Liam and I shared a frustrated look. The understanding was there… Liam wasn’t allowed off the compound—ever! His whole life. Neither would she be; their history goes back to the origin of the place.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” I asked hopefully

“No!” she shook her head, “I need to study, and next week is my period. I must be experiencing PMS.”

“Will I see you Sunday?”

“No, because then I would’ve started with my period, and I don’t think I would be up for it.”

“Was that necessary?” Liam said from the side.

She shrugged, “Read a book about men using it to blame all our emotional behavior on. I’m just a step ahead like always,” she bumped my nose with a bent finger. My head jerked up and away from her. It got her to laugh, though. She walked into the house, grabbed an apple from a tree, and bit into it.

***

Juliet

“What did you do to poor Marcus?” My mom asked as we watched him greet my dad and then leave.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dad asked when he came in from watering the little flower beds outside.

“Why?” Dad copied my gesture and tapped my nose with a finger.

“What? That?” I smiled, “I also read that in a Korean romance of the week.”

“Maybe you should’ve given her more biology books to read,” my mom said, mocking me.

“What’s going on?” I asked, biting into the apple again.

“Marcus is in love with you, Julie?”

“What?! No…! Is he…?” I stopped to think about it… “Oohh, so that’s what Sundays are about.”

“And he is here every day… I can tell you it’s not for me,” my dad flashed his eyebrows at me.

“Ewe, no, I mean, he’s hot and all, but there’s no way in hell I’ll go into that house.”

My parents shared a concerned look.